


da mi basia mille

by itoldyounottoeatthesoap, spartona



Series: avena [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Adam/Shiro - Freeform, Allura/Romelle - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Competition, Cupids, Ezor/Zethrid - Freeform, Fluff, Hunk/Kinkade, M/M, Valentine's Day, most of this was written while the authors were sleep deprived, not beta'd again even though there are two people writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:53:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29405103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itoldyounottoeatthesoap/pseuds/itoldyounottoeatthesoap, https://archiveofourown.org/users/spartona/pseuds/spartona
Summary: In which two gods of love have a competition to see who can match the most couple’s on Valentine’s Day.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Series: avena [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2196189
Kudos: 30





	1. keith

**Author's Note:**

> ok ok ok, we know it's late but hey, it's here. 
> 
> there will be art! 
> 
> anyway hope you enjoy the gays :)
> 
> ALSO, the fic title comes from the famous romans poet catullus, which translates to "give to me a thousand kisses". 
> 
> (the first chapter is the competition from keith's pov and the second chapter is from lance's pov)

Valentine’s day. 

Hands down one of Keith’s least favorite holidays.

He doesn’t have anything against love- that’s kind of his domain. What he has something against is the people. The crowds. The loud buzz. The _fuss_. It might seem odd that the god of love and passion is not passionate about celebrations of love...but it is what it is.

It used to be insufferable- everyone expects that cupid will go around and grant Valentine’s and bring couples together by making people fall in love-

Listen. That’s not how it works.

He can’t make people love other people. He only makes feelings more...obvious, in a sense. Urges them to act upon feelings that are already there. And he does it year-round. He used to pay Valentine’s Day no attention- most gods - _cough Apollo cough_ \- would love a holiday dedicated in their honor. Alas, Keith has never been one for attention.

The only reason he bothers with doing more on Valentine’s day, why he plants his ‘arrows’ in people’s hearts more often, is because of-

“There you are, mullet.”

Keith bristles at the nickname. Lord Zeus, can someone explain _why_ he enjoys hanging out with the god of beauty and lust? Keith deadpans, leveling Lance with an unimpressed look. He’s leaning against a lamppost, grinning cheekily. He holds a lollipop in one hand, wrist tilted so it points away from him. 

“Stop calling me that. It’s not a mullet.”

They chose to meet up in a park this year. You see, every year, the two gods hold a contest on who can match the most couples on Valentine’s Day. And this year, Keith is determined to win.

Keith fixes a scowl on his face, refusing to play Lance's game. He walks closer and Keith does his best not to have his attention drawn to the purposeful movement of his hips. And if he failed, well, that's between him and Lance, isn't it?

The god of love's breath hitches as Lance tilts his head up with the stick of the lollipop, bringing their faces ever closer.

"You ready to lose, babe?"

Keith scowls, ignoring the heat on his face. He does his best to look intimidating, but there isn't much heart in it. Part of him wants to give in and play Lance's game- the idea of flustering _the god of lust_ is entertaining, but he decides against it. 

He smirks. "Bring it on, _kitten_."

...Okay, maybe he didn’t decide against it.

The god can't help but feel satisfaction at the way Lance smiles at the nickname, something dangerous glinting in his eyes. It’s replaced by a smirk not a moment later. “Alright, love, you know the rules.”

Keith nods. “Yeah, yeah. If a pair has broken up and we’ve already matched them a previous year, matching them again won’t count. Children are off-limits.” He sighs. “And no het relationships.”

Lance hums, before speaking and licking his lollipop. _His eyes do not flicker. Okay? Okay._

It takes Keith a moment to respond, mind taking a moment to comprehend that Lance spoke at all. His brain short circuits again at the nickname. He stutters for a minute, before finally getting the words out. "You're cute when you win. And lose. You're just cute-"

_No, wait, he didn't mean to say that._

…

Keith is gay. 

Very gay.

For Lance, specifically.

So....listen _Lance winked, okay? When pretty boys wink he's gonna grow weak in the knees._

Anyway.

Keith stays there for a moment, composing himself. He turns on his heel, a location already in mind. It's where he usually goes this time of year, but high schools are a breeding ground for hormones and romantic feelings. He takes a deep breath, shaking thoughts of Lance from his head before flying off.

Before Keith touches down at the highschool, he can sense Lance's presence. It's familiar and comforting, but also a threat. Oh, of course they both go to the same place to make matches.

Keith scans the sparse crowd, eyes locking onto the other god. He walks towards him, tapping his shoulder to grab his attention and narrowing his eyes. "Really?"

"What, darling? Afraid I'll steal all of your matches?" The god’s breath hitches as Lance leans closer, color blossoming on his cheeks. 

Keith crosses his arms, putting a barrier between them, eyes narrowing further. “Why yes. Yes I am.” 

A boy walks past them, oblivious to the two competing gods. Keith's eyes follow him, contemplating. ”Oh, absolutely not, mullet!” 

His eyes snap back over to the other god as he frowns. “I saw him first.”

“Nope- I’m gonna be the one to match Shiro.” 

Keith blinks. “Who?” 

Lance waves him off. ”Whatever. I'm matching him and there's nothing you can do about it.” 

Keith blinks again, smirking. “Sure thing, pretty boy.” He walks away with a salute, following the boy.

He hears Lance chasing after him a few moments later, the sounds of his sandals against the pavement intensifying as he gains speed. Keith tenses upon realizing what’s about to happen right before he feels Lance slam into him, tackling him to the floor.

Keith fits the ground of the high school with a grunt, the air rushing out of his lungs. “ _Lance._ ”

The god of love and beauty is standing up, racing towards the mortal. Keith reaches out, grabbing his ankle and pulling him back to the ground. He yelps, hitting the floor next to the other god with a goan. “Mullet-”

“I saw him first,” Keith replies. Not even bothering to stand up and starting to crawl his way to the mortal. Lance lets out an offended squawk.

“I learned his name first!” The other god says, tackling his companion once again. 

They wrestle, Keith managing to push him off and pin him. “You’ve already matched couples.”

“ _That’s the point._ ” He pauses, looking at their position. He smirks. “You know, we could forget about the couples and-”

Keith goes red, smacking a hand over Lance’s mouth with a glare. “Don’t finish that.”

Lance grins and proceeds to lick the other god’s hand. Keith’s glare hardens. “What the fuck.”

The god frowns. He says something that is muffled by Keith’s hand, but sounds like, “That usually works.” 

Keith can’t help but snort. He notices the mortal out of the corner of his eye start to walk away and launches himself off Lance. He hears the other god make an offended noise but pays it no mind, looking for the boy again-

_Ah, ha._

He spots him as he turns a corner. The mortal is talking to another boy with sandy blonde hair and glasses. He feels a tingle run up his spine, confirming them as a match. He reaches for one of his throwing knives (which, no, doesn’t hurt mortals) but a hand wraps around his wrist. Keith scowls. “Lance-”

“I said, he’s mine.”

“I saw him first.”

Keith tries to wrestle his wrist out of Lance’s grasp, but to no avail. He glares at the god. “Let go.”

“No.” Lance yanks, pulling Keith against his chest. The cupid instantly goes red as he stills. Lance smirks. “What? Cat got your tongue?”

Keith scowls, twisting his wrist out of the other god’s hand, turning, and throwing the knife. He hears Lance’s cry of disappointment as the knife strikes the two mortals. Almost instantly, the two get flustered, the magic most likely giving them the undeniable urge to confess their feelings.

The gods can’t hear them from where they stand, but after a conversation the two embrace. Keith looks at Lance, smirking. 

Lance pouts- _why is that cute_ \- and crosses his arms. “That doesn’t count. You totally stole my match.”

“I saw him first.”

The other god huffs. “Whatever.”

  
  


Keith’s next match doesn’t go over too well.

They sit on the floor in the cafeteria, back against the wall as they type away on their laptop. Keith doesn’t get any sensations or vibes from them. He blinks, tilting his head. It’s not unheard of, but it is uncommon for someone to have no romantic feelings for another.

He purses his lips and approaches them.

They've zeroed in on their laptop, fingers moving quickly and nimbly across the keyboard. As he gets closer, he makes himself visible to the mortal eye and sits down next to them. They glance up at him from the corner of their eyes, gaze narrowing before returning to their laptop. “No, I will not do your homework for you.”

Keith blinks. “What?”

“Look, I’m tired of you jock types asking me to do your homework just because I’m basically a genius-”

“That’s not why-”

“It’s not?” They look at him, blinking in disbelief. 

“No?”

“...You sound uncertain about that.”

“No, just. Surprised.” He shrugs. They stare at him for a few moments before nodding slowly.

“So what do you want?”

“It’s actually, kind of weird? But it’s Valentine’s Day-”

“Oh my god. You look so edgy, but you’re a total romantic, aren’t you?”

 _That’d be Lance._ He thinks. “No.”

“Uh-huh. Sure. And, no, I’m not going to ask anyone to be my Valentine. It’s a lame and stupid tradition that started because two guys named Valentine got executed. Besides, I don’t do the mushy, romantic stuff.”

Keith raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yeah, it’s called being aromantic- and no, it’s not a phase, and no, there’s not something wrong with me-”

“No, that makes sense.”

They pause mid-rant. “Really?”

“Yeah? I kind of- got that vibe.”

“Huh. You’re a weird dude.”

  
  


His next match is actually successful.

Two girls outside by the fountain, huddled together for warmth. One looks slightly like Lance, her hair chopped just above her shoulder, eyes wide and framed by glasses. Her hands move animatedly as she talks to her friend, who watched her with a small, fond smile. Her hair is shorter than her friend’s and dyed purple.

The tingle signaling a match runs up his spine and he summons one of his throwing knives.

After being struck, the two continue their conversation. The girl talking gets more excited, and after a moment her friend leans forward to kiss her.

When they part, the darker girl gets flustered, sputtering before smacking her hand on the arm. Keith hears the playful, “ _I can’t believe you kissed me first, asshole._ ”

The other girl starts laughing, and Keith calls it a job well done.

  
  


He matches a few more couples here and there- two boys huddled together for warmth and watching cat videos on one of their phones, two people sitting next to each other on a bench as they draw- slowly bringing up his tally.

His last match of the day is two girls in an argument in front of some lockers. It’s a classic case of miscommunication and makes Keith frown. They’ve gathered an audience, but Keith isn’t able to make out the words they’re firing at each other, their voices pitched low to keep some privacy. 

His frown deepens. The tingle signifying the two as a match is there, but with them in a state like this, his magic won’t do much to nudge them to confess.

The girl with the long, blonde ponytail huffs, hands clenched into fists at her side. She points a finger at her friend, who’s tall and broad and slightly terrifying, something accusing leaving her lips before she runs off.

Keith’s frown deepens even more.

After a moment of disbelief, her friend follows her.

Keith finds them by the fountain, the blonde curled in on herself and watching the water. Her friend approaches her hesitantly, sitting down without a word. The blonde sniffles.

Keith watches them talk for a moment, the tightness in his chest easing. Turns out, everything was working out. He readies a throwing knife, waiting a moment to see if he’ll even need it.

He doesn’t. The friends embrace with a soft kiss and it’s sickeningly sweet. 

Some matches don’t need a push.  
  


The two gods meet up back on Olympus.

Lance is already there when Keith arrives. He's leaning against a pillar, a new lollipop in his hand. He looks up, the candy in his mouth, as Keith approaches.

He smirks around the lollipop, pulling off it with a pop. “Hey, mullet.”

Keith feels a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Not a mullet.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Keith fondly rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. How many matches did you get?”

“About fifty. You?”

Keith frowns. “About fifty. What's the exact number?”

“Uh, 48?”

“...47”

Lance’s eyes widen. “Seriously?”

Keith crosses his arms, frown deepening. “Seriously.”

The God of love laughs, loud and pleased. The cupid finds himself fighting back a smile. Has he really lost if Lance is happy?

“I won by one?!”

“Yes. Stop rubbing it in.” There’s no bite in his tone.

Lance giggles- _adorable_ \- practically shaking with excitement. Keith smiles, small and fond. “Good job, love.”

The other god grins, embracing the Cupid tightly. “Better luck next year, babe.”

Keith grumbles something, the other god popping the lollipop back in his mouth. He grabs Keith by his leather jacket, pulling him close. “So, ” He purrs, “do I get a reward?”

The cupid chuckles. His expression softens as he wraps his arms around his lover’s waist. His gaze flickers down to Lance’s lips. “If that's what you want.”

Lance smiles fondly and Keith practically melts. He takes the lollipop from the god of love, throwing it over his shoulder. He lets out a squawk of protest at the action, which Keith promptly silents with a kiss.


	2. lance

It's February. 

It's Lance's favorite season. 

Why, might you ask?

It's the season of _love_. 

Now, it might just be because he's the god (goddess, sometimes humans get confused) of love that makes him, ha, love the season so much. But it's always been fun to Lance to watch the silly humans become overrun with something as trivial as emotions, when surely every year or so those feelings fade away and they look for something new. 

Lance can't help but scoff as he passes more stores, decorated in pink and reds that only confirm his feelings. 

This time might be his favorite too, for another reason. 

He gets to bother his favorite cupid. 

As he passes by a storefront, he plucks a lollipop from the front container before poofing away to the park, where his _mullet_ might be. 

He poofs in, resting his shoulder against the pole. 

"There you are, mullet." 

Lance can see the way Keith rolls his eyes. 

"Stop calling me that. It's not a mullet."

Lance pushes himself off the pole, walking toward him with an obnoxiously exaggerated swing to his hips. He's face to face with Keith, able to see the pretty pout to his lips and the soft blush to his cheekbones, despite their godly blood. 

Lance tilts his head up with the stick of the lollipop (the uneaten part, Lance isn't a monster, despite what Keith might say) under Keith's chin. "You ready to lose, babe?" 

"Bring it on, kitten."

Lance tries to stop the smile on his face from forming - it’s impossible with that pet name. It'll be ringing in Lance's ears for the next week, he isn't sure if he'll be able to sleep correctly for the next couple of months, though. 

Hopefully, he'll be unable to sleep for another reason-

He changes his smile into a smirk. "Alright, love, you know the rules."

Lance hums in agreement before popping the lollipop back into his mouth. It might not be the most sanitary, but hey, he's immortal so it doesn't really matter. 

"You know you've lost every other year," Lance says, taking a long lick of the lollipop. Keith's eyes flicker for a few moments and Lance turns around so Keith can't see the blush dusting his cheeks. "I don't know why you still do it, babe."

Lance stumbles on his next step. Once he regains his balance, he closes his eyes and shakes his head, his hair falling into his eyes. _If Keith wants to play this game, Lance can play along too_. 

Lance turns around, unable to keep in his soft giggles. He walks back to Keith, whose face is turning pinker by the minute. "Oh, I know, baby," he murmurs. "You know, you're cute when you're fired up too." And to add a bit of spice, Lance adds a _wink_. 

This time, Lance actually plans on leaving, so he turns on his heel and says, "Good Luck, _darling_."

It's not hard to find desperate people on Valentine's Day. Too many fear being lonely, too many fear not being loved on the day dedicated to love. 

It's a sad parallel, but Lance isn't afraid to use it to his advantage. He pulls out a new smartphone - being a god has its perks - and easily finds his first victim. 

It's something Lance has realized throughout the millennia, that love is ruthless and unforgiving. Too many fall under its veil, ending with broken hearts and the inability to love again. Lance doesn't enjoy watching, but it comes with the job - he's gotten all too familiar with the feeling of failure after millions of wrong matches. 

Love is relative, too. Right time, wrong person; wrong time, right person; the inability to communicate despite their compatibility- Lance could go on and on describing the matches, but he doesn't have the time. He's on a mission. 

Lance passes a man on the street, someone looking longingly at the flowers displayed in the window. 

The fun has just begun.

Lance smiles as he looks around wildly, waiting for the person that gives his own, slightly-alive(?) heart a pulse of energy. When he feels it, he turns around quickly, glancing at the man who kneels in the grass with a large dog, stroking its fur gently. Lance smiles as he notches his arrow in his bow- no, mortals can not see the bow, and no, mortals are not hurt by the arrow. 

He lets the arrow fly, and almost immediately after impact, the dog the man was holding is now free, sprinting toward the other still walking down the street. 

The dog collides with the man’s legs and knocks him onto his butt. The other comes running up, out of breath and wheezing, and Lance’s job is done. 

He walks off, a small satisfied grin stretched across his face. 

Lance knows where he’ll find Keith. Keith is predictable; he goes to the same place every single year without fail. Lance doubts he’ll change it up this year. Even if he does, Lance knows where to find him. 

He matches another couple, one girl wrapped up in an exorbitant amount of scarves and jackets and the other walking down the road in a sweatshirt and sweatpants. 

When he finally gets to the entrance of the highschool, Lance can feel the energy of Keith in the building. 

_Ha, Lance was right._

He walks in through the front door, the unsuspecting teenagers hardly giving him a look. There are hearts decorating the walls of the highschool and he can see sticky notes along each of the lockers. He barely quiets a laugh after reading one:  _ You must be passing grade, because I want to take you home and show you to my mom. _

He feels Keith’s presence before he sees him, as Lance turns to continue walking down the halls. 

Keith taps him on the shoulder, his face clouded with annoyance. It’s cute. “Really?” he asks petulantly. 

Lance can’t help but bat his eyelashes at him, turning to him innocently. “What, darling? Afraid I’ll steal all of your matches?” He grins cheekily, leaning closer to Keith. 

Lance wishes he felt ashamed of how flirtatious he is being, but hey, a god’s gotta do what a god’s gotta do in order to win.

A tall, muscular boy passes them in the hall, and Lance’s eyes track him as he walks away. He glances back at Keith, narrowing his eyes as Keith glances from him to the boy.

“Oh, absolutely not, mullet!”

Keith’s eyes return to his own as he says with a small frown, “I saw him first.” 

They’ve been alive for centuries, even a millennia at this point, and they’re still acting like five year old kids fighting over a toy. 

Making the immortal life interesting, one competition at a time. 

Lance squints at the boy’s bag, reading his school tag as he walks away.

_ Takashi Shirogane _ . 

“Nope- I’m gonna be the one to match Shiro.”

“ _ Who?” _

“Whatever, I’m matching him and there’s nothing you can do about it,” Lance says as he waves his arms. 

A slow smile stretches across Keith’s face as he responds, “Sure thing, pretty boy.” He raises his hand in mock salute as he disappears into the crowd.

_ That sexy son of a bitch- _

Lance stares after him, mouth agape and his face burning. “Whatever,” he decides. He’s not gonna allow Keith- despite how good he looks- distract him from his mission. Lance has a streak going, and he’s not about to end it because Keith flirted back. Nope, not gonna happen. 

He turns on his heel and follows after the Shiro kid, searching for that weird undercut in the crowd. He’s fairly easy to find, taller and buffer than most. When Lance catches sight of him, he’s leaning against a locker, talking to another girl with blonde hair so light that it looks white. He laughs and Lance searches for that weird tingle to try to find that match.

It doesn’t come from the girl- thank god- but it does come from across the school.

Where Keith is already headed. 

Shit. 

Lance makes a run for it. He doesn’t remember the last time he’s had to  _ run _ anywhere, he’s always had the convenience of flying or teleporting, but Lance is on a mission. 

He weaves in and out of disgruntled students and teachers until he catches sight of a familiar mullet. 

Lance tackles him, full football tackle. They land on the ground, a tangle of limbs and Keith takes the brunt of the fall. He hears a muffled “Lance” coming from Keith but he’s already up and chasing after the kid fifty yards ahead of them. 

His attempt is stopped, however, by the conniving bastard by the name of  _ Keith Kogane _ , who reaches out with a hand and grabs his ankle, causing Lance to eat shit on the disgusting tiles of the school floor. 

Lance hits the ground with a loud groan. “ _ Mullet- _ ”

“I saw him first.” Lance watches as Keith drags himself closer to the boy, who’s stopped to talk to another kid with nice flowy hair. Lance squawks at Keith.

“I learned his name first!” Lance says, as he gets up on all fours in order to launch himself at his opponent. Lance lands on top of Keith, and for a moment, feels a glimpse of satisfaction before that is ripped to shreds by Keith throwing him off his back and pinning him to the floor. 

“You’ve already matched couples,” Keith grunts at him, Lance’s wrists slipping in and out of his grasp.

“Well that’s the point-” Lance responds with an eye roll. Keith remains on top of him, and Lance can’t help but stay there gloating. Well, if Lance can’t get this match, he’s at least seen Keith on top of him and wow- what a sight. Lance smirks. “You know, we could forget about the couples and-”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Keith growls as he slaps a hand over Lance’s mouth in an unsexy way. His face has turned a bright red, and Lance counts this as a victory too. 

Lance gives into his more childish tendencies, forgoing the professionalism he was attempting to keep (actually that professionalism disappeared the moment Lance walked through the highschool) and licks Keith’s hand. 

Keith stares back at him, his face deadpan. “What the fuck.”

Dammit. That usually works.

Keith snorts at him. How rude. Lance watches Keith’s head jerk upward, something catching his sight like a predator notices prey. 

Keith hops off of Lance, what a pity, and starts stalking his way down the hallway. 

Lance follows him down the hallway and across the corner. 

Keith is staring and Lance finally gets a good look at the boy they’re matching. 

The kid’s cute, maybe a bit of Lance’s type if he weren’t a millennia old immortal. Lance places a hand on Keith’s wrist as he reaches for one of his throwing knives.

Keith’s face is unamused as he scowls. “Lance-”

Lance scowls back, crossing his arms. “I said he’s mine.”

“I saw him first.”

Lance tightens his grip as Keith tries to wrench his wrist out of Lance’s hand. Keith levels a glare at Lance, which Lance  _ shouldn’t  _ find hot, but he does. “Let go."

“No,” Lance responds as he yanks Keith’s wrist so Keith is pulled against his chest. A wave of satisfaction fills him as he watches Keith’s face turn a bright red. Keith is so still he seems like a statue. Lance can’t help but smirk. “What? Cat got your tongue?”

Keith’s face turns into an even deeper scowl, which Lance didn’t think was possible. He jerks and twists his wrist out of Lance’s grasp and summons his throwing knife before Lance can react.

Lance can’t stop the cry of frustration that rips it’s way from his throat. 

Fuck. 

Lance turns around and watches as the pair turn red. One gestures wildly while the other scratches the back of his head. They hug and Lance can’t watch anymore. 

Lance knows he has an unbelievable pout on his face, years of experience being the youngest in the family training him for this exact moment. 

Keith has a godawful smirk on his face and Lance can’t decide if he wants to punch or kiss it off. 

Lance crosses his arms in a sign of petulance. “That doesn’t count. You totally stole my match.”

“I saw him first.”

Lance waves his arms. “Whatever.”

He turns and walks away, not before leaving Keith with a parting gift. “You may have gotten this one, mullet, but I’ll still win.”

On Lance’s way out of the school, he knocks into two girls walking side by side to their class. 

“Allura!” one of them shouts as Lance lands on the floor. He rubs at his head, because, despite being immortal, Lance can still feel pain. 

Lance sits up, staring at the other girl, who is frantically picking up the books while the other one stares as Lance. 

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around here,” Allura says, her eyes narrowing. 

“‘Lura, we’ve just moved here two months ago. There’s no way you could’ve met everyone in the school so far,” the other girl replies placatingly, giving Lance a sorry look.

And just like that, Lance’s spine tingles with the sign of a perfect match. 

“No problem,” Lance says with a cheeky grin. “I’m sure I don’t know everyone in the school either.”

The girl hands Allura her books back as Allura gives Lance a once over, before grabbing the other girl’s hand, who blushes like a maiden, and heading to class.

She calls from over her shoulder, “I’m sorry for her, I’m Romelle!” and promptly disappears into the crowd. 

With a small smile on his face, he follows after the pair, weaving in and out of students and damn, there were not this many kids going to school when he was learning. 

As he stares at a buff football dude in the corner, who watches him carefully, Lance can’t help but think that if he were in school now, he would get beat up. But, fortunately for him, he is both immortal and not attending highschool. 

Anyway, he catches up with them at the water fountain while Romelle refills her water. 

God, they’re both just really smitten with each other. Lance can tell in the way Allura watches Romelle with a fond smile, as Romelle rambles about something. There’s still a light dusting of blush across Romelle’s face, and Lance notches an arrow. 

He lets it fly and almost immediately, Allura reaches a hand out and places it against Romelle’s jaw. Romelle tilts her head up and Allura and her connect in a soft kiss. 

Lance’s job here is done. 

Lance hangs outside, waiting for the school day to finish, deciding it would be more convenient to let the kids come to him rather than searching them out. 

On a whim, Lance follows a student with a yellow bandana to his car. 

“Hiya, I’m Lance,” he says, extending his arm. 

The kid gives him a puzzled look, before shaking his hand. “I’m Hunk.”

“I’m new and I was just wondering if you could possibly drive me back to my place? I don’t have a car and the soonest I can get picked up is in two hours. I know this seems super serial killerish, but I promise I’m-”

Hunk gives him an awkward smile. “Sure, dude. I’ve just gotta drop something off at the bakery before I can give you a ride, but if you’re okay with a pit stop-”

_ Say something that’s hip. _

“Yooo, that sounds awesome!” 

Lance would like to saw his foot off. That was horrible. 

Hunk seems to buy it. “Alright, hop in! Sorry it’s a mess, I wasn’t expecting passengers.”   


“Dude you have no clue how helpful this is.”

He ducks his head as he sits in the passenger seat of the vehicle. Hunk follows soon after, patting the dashboard gently. 

“Her name’s Yellow. Got me through so many snow storms.” Hunk turns to Lance. “I didn’t hear anything about a new student?”

Shit.

“Oh, I asked the school not to make a big deal out of it, ha, since it’s already weird starting in the middle of the semester, along with meeting new people-”

“Yea, I get it dude. No worries. Which classes are you taking?”   


“I, um, don’t remember? It’s different from my last school.”

“Oh, that’s alright. I wanted to see if you knew any of my other friends.”

Lance furrows his eyebrows. “Who?”

“Oh, Pidge, Shiro, Allura, Romelle.” Hunk clears his throat and blushes as he says, “Kinkade, Shay.” Hunk trails off as they come to a stop at a red light. 

_ Kinkade. _

Interesting. 

Hunk pulls into a small parking lot, and sits there for a moment before he gets out of the car. 

“Hey, do you need help?” Lance calls from inside the car. 

“Sure,” Hunk calls back as he opens the trunk. 

Lance opens the door, and hops out of the car a little too fast and ends up slipping on ice. 

_ What is it with him and falling today? _

Lance lets out a long groan. 

“Lance?” Hunk calls from above him, slightly panicked. 

Lance waves him off as he sits up. “I’m good,” he says after a deep breath. 

He stands, without the help of Hunk, and gives him a smile. 

“No worries,” Lance says as he travels to the trunk of the car. 

There’s a few cakes and cupcakes on the bed of the trunk, and Lance grabs two containers, while Hunk grabs the others. 

“Are you sure you’re okay? That looked like a pretty hefty fall.”

“Pfft, I’ve fallen worse than that plenty of times.”

Lance sets the containers down on the counter. He gives the women behind the displays a small wave as Hunk enters. 

“Who is this?” the woman asks. 

“This is Lance! He’s new at school and I’m giving him a ride back to his house.”

“Actually,” Lance pipes up, “Your bakery is a lot closer than expected to my house! I can walk to make it easier.”

“No, I insist!” Hunk says, “I can’t let you walk after promising to drive you home!”

Lance lets out a sigh. “As long as I’m not taking up too much time-”

“As long as he’s home before his shift, he should be good,” Hunk’s mom interrupts. She turns to Hunk. “Is that boy coming to the bakery today? He always comes around this time-"

“ _ Mom _ ,” Hunk hisses under his breath. He gives Lance a quick smile, before muttering something only his mom can hear. 

The bell rings, and all three of them turn toward the door. 

A young man who looks like he could be a man fresh out of Ancient Greece, with muscles sculpted like statues of gods. 

The dude is hot, is what Lance is trying to say. 

But luckily, Lance already has his gorgeously sculpted god waiting for Lance to beat him in this competition. 

“Hello,” the young man greets, a shy smile on his face. Lance can see the blush dusting his cheekbones. “I hope I’m not interrupting, but I was wondering if I could get a few pastries?”

Lance feels that small tingle run up his spine. He exchanges a small smile with Hunk’s mom as he watches them interact; Hunk rushes to put his apron on and serves him from behind the counter. They talk about  _ yeast _ of all things and Hunk explains the magic of yeast in each of the pastries. 

Lance pulls out his bow and arrow and lets one fly. 

Hunk finishes ringing him up, the man Lance assumes is Kinkade, leans across the counter and shyly asks if Hunk is free this afternoon. 

Hunk gives Lance an apologetic glance before nodding and accepting Kinkade’s offer. Lance gives Hunk two supporting thumbs up, winks at Hunk’s mom, and leaves the shop, the bell chiming after him. 

Lance matches a few more couples, none of them entirely interesting, on his way back to Olympus. 

He waits at the arch of the building, plucking a lollipop out of a candy basket, and waits for his lovely cupid to arrive. 

His head picks up from where it rests against a pillar as he feels Keith’s presence appear. 

Lance rolls the hard candy around in his mouth before pulling it out with a loud pop. 

He watches as Keith approaches, and says “Hey, mullet.”

Lance barely sees the sliver of a fond smile make its way to Keith’s lips. “Not a mullet.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” 

It definitely is a mullet. Keith’s just in denial. 

Keith rolls his eyes at him, and Lance barely resists the temptations to stick his tongue out. 

“Yeah, yeah. How many matches did you get?” Keith asks. 

Lance does a mental checklist. “About fifty. You?”

Frown lines appear on Keith’s face as he says, “About fifty. What's the exact number?”

Lance isn’t exactly sure he wants to share his number first, but judging by the look on Keith’s face, he’s not sure he has an option. “Uh, 48?”

“...47”

Lance’s eyes widen. “Seriously?”

Lance can’t help but laugh at Keith, elation bubbling up in his throat. 

“I won by one?”

Lance knows he’s rubbing it in with all of his celebrations, but Keith is entertaining his childishness for this moment and Lance is not going to give it up. 

“Yes, stop rubbing it in.” 

Keith doesn’t sound mad, so Lance takes it as an opportunity to continue gloating.

Lance’s body is vibrating, shaking like he downed Monster Energy, Five-Hour Energy, RedBull at the same time. 

“Good job, love.”   


Lance beams back at him, hip checking him gently as he says, “Better luck next year, babe.”

Lance shoves the lollipop back into his mouth, drawing Keith closer. “So, babe,” Lance says with a long drawl. “Do I get a reward?”

Lance feels Keith’s deep chuckle reverberate within his own chest. “If that's what you want,” Keith says as his eyes flicker downward. Lance lets a small smile grow on his face. 

God, Lance loves it when Keith gets all gooey. 

Keith plucks his lollipop out of his mouth and tosses it over his shoulder into the dirt. Lances gasps loudly in betrayal before Keith wraps his arms around Lance’s waist and shuts him up with a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> anyway thanks for reading!! hope you enjoyed our silly valentine's day story. 
> 
> leave a comment if you want, if you dont we can't stop you :)


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